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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721197">Feels Like The Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksbrowneyes/pseuds/spocksbrowneyes'>spocksbrowneyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pocket Monsters: Sword &amp; Shield | Pokemon Sword &amp; Shield Versions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Piers Tries to Help, Fluff, Marnie Is Sad, Sibling Love, not the weird kind you creep.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:01:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksbrowneyes/pseuds/spocksbrowneyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marnie is sad, and Piers makes it better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mary | Marnie &amp; Nezu | Piers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Feels Like The Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It didn’t rain in Spikemuth. Or snow, or hail, and didn’t have thunderstorms. There wasn’t any fog, but there wasn’t any daylight either. Marnie didn’t dislike her home, the opposite actually, but she missed the weather when she was traveling and the sun warming her skin. She didn’t want to spend the rest o her life there. It’d been 3 days since she told Piers that she didn’t want to run the gym anymore. Marnie could argue that it had been one of the most stressful things she’d done. Piers wasn’t hard to talk to, he’d practically raised her all while being very much an older brother, just a very loving one. It was just hard to do because Piers had been so excited when she’d taken over the gym, he had been so proud of her. Truth be told, he was proud of everything she did. The gym challenge, the championship, anything, and everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been so understanding about it and accepted her choice in a heartbeat. Marnie knew he missed running the gym as much as she missed exploring, but a quality she admired in him was that he could push all that to the darkest depths of his thoughts, and make a choice based entirely on somebody else. He was far more compassionate than he gave himself credit for. But Marnie still felt selfish. Piers had given up nearly his entire childhood, his whole life so far, to her. And she couldn’t seem to live up to him, like the stakes were miles high. If you asked Piers, when it came to living up to him, he’d say that in order to get on his level, you’re going to need cinderblock shoes and a trip to the Marianas Trench because you’re not going up, you’re going down. But Marnie knew that wasn’t true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a soft knock on the door on the door, and Marnie lifted her head up from where she’d been burying it in her pillow, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” a gentle but muffled voice came from behind the door. It was Piers. Of course, who else would it be? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Marnie said flatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers opened the door a crack, “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M’ fine. And this is your room too, so, ya don’t need ta knock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t wrong about that. Other people thought it’d be weird but it wasn’t really all that bad. Piers and Marnie shared a very small apartment, which only had one bedroom, but of decent size, so they shared it. Piers had tried to convince her that he could just sleep on the couch, but he already had one hell of a sore back almost constantly, so that wasn’t going to work. And it was fine. Contrary to most would think, Piers was very quiet and even nights he spent lying awake, that was all he did, lay awake, all night long. And if he had something that was louder than him walking (which was barely audible) to do, he went into the kitchen to do it. That wasn’t really necessary though, Marnie would admit she was a very deep sleeper, unlike Piers who surprisingly, having grown up in such a noisy town, would wake up at the sound of a pin dropping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers opened the door the rest  of the way, “You don’t seem fine to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marnie stayed quiet, but didn’t move from where she was. It was getting kind of late, around 10:00 pm, and she as tired. The championship had been a month ago, and yet she still was down about losing, and even more down about giving up the gym, feeling like something of a failure, and selfish. She didn’t know how Piers managed to be as strong as he was. She knew he felt the same way, only about himself with an extra helping of trauma mixed in, and on a much more intense scale. And yet he still managed to take care of her, and everyone else, and make it through the day, even if it was just barely. He wouldn’t let himself breakdown in front of Marnie, trying to protect her from seeing even a glimpse too much of the hell he’d been through, and sometimes lived in. And yet right now. She was feeling like he was. But nowhere near as intense, and seriously lacking in the other things that made up his issues. And yet right now she felt as if she didn’t have the energy to even lift a finger. Like as soon as she got home and flopped across her bed this afternoon, she was too weak to ever move again. She didn’t know how Piers did it. The process of being sad was exhausting. What on Earth did it feel like to be broken?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Marnie, what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marnie twisted herself onto her side so she was facing the wall, “Nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers sighed, “I’m here if you want to talk, Marns.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her an awkward kind of hug, and sat down on his bed, flipping through a binder that held sheet music for songs that he didn’t write, but would play as a warm-up or for fun anyway. Marnie relaxed, knowing what was coming. Piers always did it when she was sad or upset and whatnot. He took his guitar out of its case, his acoustic one, sat back down and started to pluck at the strings, the sound dancing into a familiar melody.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He started to sing, his voice quiet, and gentle, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We’ll do it all. Everything. On our own.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was gentle and soft. Marnie’s favorite song too. She let herself melt to the sound. Piers’ songs were all in a punk rock style, and Marnie loved them, but in the times when he would sing quietly, gently, it was truly amazing. Marnie had been all of 3 years old when their mother passed away and if there was one thing she remembered the most about her, was her voice when she sang to her. It was gentle, and it was almost like a blanket as Marnie would fall asleep. Even in her final days, it seemed the same. And other than having its inherent differences, Piers’ voice was just like her’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Those three words, are said too much, but not enough.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers knew he sounded like her too. It was part of the reason why he didn’t sing in a slow style. Marnie had once recorded him singing the same song he was now and had been listening to it. She’d made the mistake of not realizing Piers had heard it and when she came out of their room for dinner had seen one of his multiple songwriting journals laying open next to the window in order to dry the wet marks on the pages, his voice was still shaking a bit when he asked her if she wanted some water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Forget what we’re told, before we get too old. Show me a garden, that’s bursting into life.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marnie smiled, Piers was better a communicating than he thought, than most people thought. But try living with him for only your whole life. It’ll become pretty obvious what he’s trying to say. And right now, Marnie couldn’t help but smile. It felt as if he was telling her that he wasn’t upset. And that he was proud. That no matter what she did, he’d been there for her. No matter how many battles she won, or how many times she lost. No matter who she spent her days with, no matter how many miles from home she was. He was proud. He was there for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s waste time, chasing cars, around our heads,</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marnie rolled over onto her back and smiled at him. He smiled back, and it felt like the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys for reading! By the way, the song Piers was singing is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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